


A Little Adventure

by rufeepeach



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Movie AU, screwball comedy au, the lady vanishes AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/pseuds/rufeepeach
Summary: In the summer of 1935, Belle French boards a train from Salzburg to Paris and a life as her husband’s little wife. Upon sustaining a blow to the head, a helpful young woman named Emma Swan volunteers to keep an eye on her. However, when Belle awakens to find all trace of Emma gone, only an unpleasant fellow passenger, Mr Gold, agrees that she ever existed... and that they all may be in great danger.





	A Little Adventure

As the compartment doors closed and the whistle rang out, Belle French was finally alone with her thoughts.

Looking down at her finger, she shifted her hand back and forth, watching the engagement ring glimmer in the light. The train was bound for Paris but it would be Gerard d'Aston waiting for her at the end of the line. Belle swallowed against the nausea that swelled in her stomach - the train had lurched into life, and surely travel sickness would account for that. 

She rarely travelled by train, but she had begged her father to be allowed to travel a little, with a proper chaperone and friends of course, before she married. Papa had consented, a little grudgingly. For the past two months, she had toured Europe and forgotten all about the ring on her finger. Everything she had longed to do, to sip red wine by the Colosseum in Rome, to smoke cigars in Monte Carlo and dance into the night in Barcelona, she had done... albeit under the watchful eye of Mrs Lucas, and with the knowledge of her stern fiance awaiting her back home.

She had left firm, kind Mrs Lucas and her friends on the platform in Salzburg. It was acceptable, it seemed, for her to travel alone so long as she did not leave the train from end-to-end. 1935 it might have been, but Papa was firmly stuck in 1880.

Now, all that stood between her and her fate was this final journey through the Alps. The whole day and a night stretched out before her, endlessly. The thought of those long hours entirely alone with her thoughts (a prelude, she thought treacherously, to further days to come spent cooped up in Gerard's family home) was suddenly too much to bear.

Suddenly, a noise from the hallway startled Belle out of her gloomy thoughts. She jumped, and automatically rose to her feet, sliding the compartment door open. A young blonde woman, no older than Belle herself, stood in the hallway. Before she could speak, something heavy and hard hit Belle square in the side of the head.

"Ow!"

The world spun, and Belle stumbled.

"Watch out!" the woman cried, a moment too late. She rushed forward and caught Belle to prevent her fall. Belle's hand came to the side of her head, throbbing from where whatever it was - a falling lamp by the look of it, shattered now on the ground at her feet - had hit her.

"Hey, you okay?" the woman helped Belle to right herself.

A red-haired man in a tweed jacket stepped toward them. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, she's fine," the blonde woman replied. "Just a little bump."

"Good," the man nodded, "I, ah, that's good. Glad to hear it." He looked a little queasy, then stepped away. "I mean, because if it's an emergency they'll stop the train, and I can't afford to miss the opening of the cricket."

"Your tact is appreciated," the blonde woman said, dryly. Belle picked up an American accent, the voice light and friendly. "But I think she'll survive."

The man made a noise, then disappeared. The blonde woman brought Belle back into the compartment. Belle sat down in her vacated seat, and watched blearily as the other woman sat opposite her.

"I'm okay," she mumbled, even as her vision continued to swim. "'M fine."

"You don't look fine," the woman replied, bluntly. "I owe you one - that lamp would have hit me right between the eyes if you hadn't looked out when you did."

"Any time," Belle said. The woman laughed, but tightly. The world began to blur. The woman's hands gripped Belle's tighter and shook her back awake.

"Hey now, stay with me," she said. "Don't pass out. What's your name?"

"Belle," Belle said. "Belle French. And you?"

"Emma Swan," Emma replied. As Belle looked up at her, her vision started to clear and she felt less of an overwhelming urge to pass out. Her head still throbbed, however, and she was badly in need of a glass of water.

"Nice to meet you," she said, remembering her manners. Emma smiled.

"Likewise. You going all the way to Paris?"

"Yes," Belle nodded. "Getting married in a month."

"Congratulations!"

Under normal circumstances, Belle would have smiled, showed off her ring, and swallowed her doubts as she always did. Right now, however, her faculties were focused on maintaining consciousness. She saw Emma frown.

"Or... not congratulations? Cold feet or concussion?"

"I'm fine," Belle said again, clearer. Her head was starting to clear, the ringing in her ears had stopped, and the pain was subsiding. "I'm really, honestly fine."

"Glad to hear it," Emma said.

Belle sat for a long moment in silence, trying to gather her thoughts. Emma watched her closely. "Listen, I owe you one for taking the hit instead of me. Can I get you some lunch? Food and water might help."

Belle nodded, and let Emma help her to her feet. They walked to the dining car together.

When they entered, Belle looked around, trying to focus on her surroundings to ignore the throbbing in her temple. At one table, a striking dark-haired woman sat with an older, greying man. A young couple sat at the next table, a beautiful woman with short black hair, and a handsome man in a soldier's uniform. At a third table, a couple ate together. She could see only the back of the woman's head, a riot of auburn-red curls. The man she could see more clearly. Belle frowned in sympathy: he ate with only one hand, the other missing and replaced with a metal hook.

Belle returned her attention to Emma to keep from staring. They sat at a free table, and opened their menus.

"Are you travelling alone?" Emma asked. Belle nodded.

"Only this final leg. My chaperone and her granddaughter had friends to visit in Vienna, but my fiance grows impatient. At short notice, my father has graciously allowed me this small freedom."

Emma shrugged. "That sounds better than nothing, anyway."

"I suppose. How about you? Are you here alone?"

"Not anymore I'm not," Emma smiled, and Belle smiled back. "Girls travelling alone should stick together, right?"

Belle felt something lift in her heart. She hadn't realised how afraid she was of being all alone with her miserable thoughts until the fear abated.

"Are you going all the way to Paris?" Belle asked. Emma shrugged.

"All being well."

"Do you live there, or are you just visiting?"

"Just visiting," Emma said. The waiter came and provided a glass of water to each of them, which Belle drank down gratefully. “You should look me up when we get there.”

“What did you say your name was again?” Belle asked. “Emma…”

Emma began to reply, but at that moment the train picked up speed, and the sudden noise drowned her out.

“What?” Belle cried. Emma tried again, but still Belle could not hear.

Finally, Emma gave up shouting her name. Instead, she leaned over to the window, and breathed a cloud of steam. ‘SWAN’ she wrote, in big letters. Belle nodded, smiling.

The noise finally abated. “Thank you,” Belle said. “Emma Swan.”

The waiter returned to take an order, but Emma waved him off. "Oh, I'm not eating,” she said, “But my friend here is."

Belle frowned. "Aren't you hungry?"

Emma smiled, "I have a packed dinner from my hotel. But you should eat. Like I said, I owe you."

Belle ordered a bowl of soup, something easy on her rattled stomach. The waiter thanked her, and left.

"How's the head?" Emma asked. Belle shrugged.

"Still aching, but not half so bad. Thank you for looking after me."

Emma waved off her thanks. "No need to thank me, that lamp would have brained me if not for you, and then where would my son be? Figure the least I can do is make sure you reach Paris in one piece."

"Have you ever been?" Belle asked, politely. Emma shook her head.

"I've been through the train station, but never into the city. I prefer New York to Paris, honestly, and London to New York. It's been home for long enough now."

"Your husband is in London?"

Emma paused for a moment, an odd look crossing her face. "Oh, I'm not married."

"Oh I'm sorry," Belle shook her head, embarrassed and worried she had offended her new friend. "You said you have a son... I shouldn't have assumed!"

"Don't worry about it," Emma shrugged. "It's a long, boring, complicated story, and I wouldn't want to spoil your soup."

Belle shifted back as the waiter placed her lunch on the table before her. Her stomach growled.

"Go ahead," Emma said. She pulled a bag out from under the table, and from it drew a sandwich of what looked like cured meat. "I'm good over here."

They ate in silence for the next while, before Emma paid up, and they made their way back to the compartment.

When they arrived, Belle found that a stranger had seated himself in the seat at the far end. An older gentleman in a well-cut suit, a cane leaned against the side panel, was reading a book.

He looked up when they entered. His eyes landed on Emma first, then glanced to Belle.

"Good day, sir," Belle said, politely. The man made a small noise, then returned to his book.

Slighted, Belle turned her attention back to Emma, who made a face in return. They laughed together, entirely at the rude newcomer's expense.

"So will you continue onto London from Paris?" Belle asked. Emma nodded.

"I must get back."

"A pressing appointment, or just homesickness?"

Emma shrugged. "Perhaps a little of both. My family needs me, and I have been away far too long."

Belle sighed, and sat back in her seat. "I must confess, those same feelings are enough to compel me to never return."

Emma's eyes were kind and understanding. "I know that feeling. I have felt it myself. But in the end, you can't run forever."

Belle considered that. "I shouldn't complain," she said at last. "It's just hard to want to go back to a life where I am expected to be seen and not heard."

"More's the pity," came a mutter from the man in the corner. Belle felt her face grow hot.

"If you are so frustrated by conversation, sir, then you may find the silent car more appealing," Emma snapped. The man looked up from his reading, dark eyes landing on her.

"The silent car has been overrun, my dear," he said. "As, it seems, has this compartment."

"My bags have been here since the train left Salzburg," Belle pointed out. "You must have known someone would return."

"I had hopes for peace," the man replied. His eyes cast down to the book poking out of Belle's bag, then back to her face. "Alas, I was mistaken."

"Perhaps you would like to join the conversation?" Belle asked. "Nothing like new friends to brighten one's spirits."

His lip curled into something resembling a smile. His eyes cast to Emma, then back to Belle. "I'm perfectly content with my reading, thank you."

"What are you reading?" Belle asked, curiously.

The man held up the book. Belle smiled to see the cover: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

"Have you read it before?" Belle asked, excitedly. "It's one of my favourites but I'd hate to spoil it!"

The man's expression changed, but he didn't look displeased. "I have not," he said. "I have been abroad on business for some time, with little time to read for pleasure."

"Oh it's amazing," Belle assured him. "If you finish it before the journey's through I'd love to discuss it, Mr-"

He looked perplexed, but not unhappy. Indeed, for the first time since the conversation began, Belle swore she saw the hint of a real smile on his lips.

"Gold," he said, holding out his hand. Belle shook it firmly. "I'll consider it, Miss..."

"French," Belle supplied. "Belle French. And this is Emma Swan."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss French," he looked to Emma, and Belle thought she caught a subtle shift in his expression, although she may well have imagined it. “Miss Swan.”

He returned to his book. Emma gave Belle an impressed look, but didn't comment further.

"Do you think I can sleep now without further injury?" Belle asked. "I didn't sleep well last night and I think a nap might do me good."

Emma nodded. "If the pain's gone away I'm sure it will be fine. I'll keep an eye on you."

"Thank you," Belle smiled gratefully, and allowed her eyes to drift closed, the churning of the train lulling her to sleep.

When Belle awoke, she was disoriented for just a moment. She wondered why the chair in the library was jolting so, and where that noise was coming from. She had a crick in her neck, and shifted to alleviate it.

As she moved, reality crept back in, and she opened her eyes to see the train compartment empty.

"Emma?" she mumbled. She looked about. Emma's bag was gone; so was the taciturn Mr Gold in the corner.

A glance down told her that her own bag was in tact and by her feet, unmolested. She rose to her feet. Perhaps Emma had availed herself of the lavatory, or returned to the dining car.

She stepped out of the compartment, and found the conductor a few doors down, standing in a vestibule. "Excuse me," she said. "Have you seen Miss Swan? The blonde woman who was with me? She was in my compartment a while ago but now I cannot find her."

The conductor frowned, and thought for a moment. "Miss... you have been alone in that compartment asleep. No woman has entered in or out. I’m sorry… you must be mistaken.”


End file.
